


To Build a Home

by wee_peach5



Series: The Diverging of Ways [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brother-Sister Relationships, Families of Choice, Gen, Good Morgana (Merlin), Kid Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Kid Morgana (Merlin), Morgana and Arthur being siblings, Pre-Canon, Protective Siblings, Uther Pendragon's A+ Parenting (Merlin), Wee!Pendragons (why is this not a tag??), no beta we die like bbc Camelot knights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29806380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wee_peach5/pseuds/wee_peach5
Summary: In the wake of tragedy, a young Arthur and Morgana try to adjust to their new, more permanent roles in each other’s lives. It goes as well as you’d expect.AU set pre-canon.
Relationships: Morgana & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: The Diverging of Ways [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2190945
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	To Build a Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hello gang! 
> 
> After my last story, the thought of little Arthur and Morgana adapting to their new life together got stuck in my head and I just had to do something about it. 
> 
> It's my personal head cannon that Arthur is a sweet cinnamon roll of a child until Uther messes him up, so I hope you're not too bothered by him acting differently to how he does in the show. Also, I'm a massive fan of Disney's Sword in the Stone and I still feel cheated BBC didn't include Sir Ector and Sir Kay in the show. In my little world, they're part of Arthur's life. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's Merlin or any of its characters nor do I own any of the characters from Arthurian legend which may or may not have been borrowed by Disney and then borrowed by me again for this story. It's all just a bit of fun guys!

* * *

“Arthur?”

The young prince startled at the sudden call of his name in the otherwise quiet sombre morning air but he made no move to tare his gaze away from the small group huddled together down in the courtyard. He was unwavering in his silent vigil as he had been since the moment the courtyard had cleared and the rest of the kingdom went about their normal everyday business. It wasn’t until he felt the presence of the young man who called his name, slowly move to sit down beside him on the damp step that he found himself able to turn his sapphire eyes from one sorry sight to the other.

“What are you doing out here all alone?” Kay asked gently as he eased himself into a more comfortable position.

Arthur couldn’t help but gnaw on the inside of his cheek as he realised the injured knight was panting from exertion caused by the simple act of sitting. It caused Arthur’s heart to constrict in his chest. The normally larger-than-life teen was a fraction of his normal self and it was incredibly unsettling. Although more put together and less bloody than when Arthur had first laid eyes on him a few days ago as he’d ridden back into the citadel, slumped over in his saddle, looking for all the world half-dead, the young Prince couldn’t help but still worry he was going to succumb to his injuries and drop down dead suddenly.

The cuts mixed in with his freckles, the stitches that bridged his left eyebrow and his left arm strapped tightly to his chest to protect the dislocated shoulder and wrist within the fabric were just a small insight to the horror that had befallen the young knight in the two months he had spent away from their beloved home.

“Here,” Kay said, as he scooted closer to Arthur extending his hand out to wrap the right side of his cloak over the younger boy’s shoulders. “Violet will be furious if you leave puddles on the polished floors later.” Kay let out a little hiss as he knocked his bad arm against his knee as he folded in on himself a little more.

“Careful you dolt,” Arthur chastised as he reached his hand up to pull the heavy crimson fabric further round himself to protect his clothes from the drizzle that had been falling for the past hour. “I thought Gaius told you to get some rest?”

“Sitting is resting.” Kay replied with a smirk before allowing his gaze to fall on the group gathered on the cobbles. He let out a shuddering breath before turning his head back towards Arthur. “I know it’s a stupid question but, are you alright?”

Arthur shrugged his shoulders as he found himself blinking against another onslaught of tears. Kay was right, it was a stupid question. One that he was quite sure that everyone in Camelot would answer with a resounding no. Still, the prince found himself shaking his head as he rubbed a hand across his face.

Kay made a distressed noise and leaned his good shoulder harder against Arthur’s underneath his cloak, a discreet presence of comfort. “You know,” he began when he realised that Arthur was scrubbing at the few tears that had escaped to his cheeks. “it’s alright to not know how you feel, it’s alright to be sad and it’s alright to cry. _No one_ , will scold you for it today of all days Art.”

Arthur let out a small sniff as he turned his watery gaze to his friend. He knew exactly who the older male was referring to. In fact, Arthur had lost count the number of times he’d been given the lecture about being brave and strong in the twelve short years of his existence. It had been bestowed upon him just as his father had departed the Kingdom almost two weeks ago, it had been reiterated by every one of his councillors Arthur had come into contact with, and as the days rolled on the youngster found it harder and harder to be both things.

He was the Prince and he understood that it was his duty to be a pillar of strength that everyone in the kingdom could lean on and he’d truly tried his best but he was filled with so much sadness that he felt as if he would burst.

Kay let out a sigh as he moved his right arm and draped it across Arthur’s shoulders, pulling him towards his chest.

“B-but,” Arthur stuttered out in a panic, worried that even brushing against his friend would cause him pain.

“It’s alright,” Kay promised as he hugged Arthur to his chest.

He gave Arthur’s shoulder a squeeze and it was all it took for him to sag against the warm velvet of Kay’s tunic. For the first time, in quite a long time Arthur allowed himself to relish in the contact and soak up the safety the half-hug brought him. Normally, he wouldn’t be caught dead showing this kind of affection to anyone in public should word reach his father but, he was exhausted.

It had been two weeks of hell and it showed no sign of getting better any time soon. Camelot remained a former shadow of the place he knew and loved and, he had no idea when things would start to go back to normal.

For the first time in his life, Camelot had become a ghost-town. War had broken out between his home and Mercia again; Lord Bayard’s men had crossed the border into Camelot laying waste to the communities that stretched between the two kingdoms before King Uther had sent his army to the region of Andor to meet them. Arthur had been forced to watch from his father’s side as the legions of men bearing the Pendragon crest had marched out of the citadel while the women, children and those unable to fight had watched on in teary concern.

At first, it had been quite exciting. Arthur had been fascinated by the small snippets of strategy he’d heard passed between councillors in passing and the brief moments his father had been in a good enough mood to answer his questions. After all, he was just a young boy who’d grown up listening to his tutors regale fantastic tales of epic battles and valiant knights. In every story, every passage from history he’d learned of how his ancestors had fought and won their kingdoms, had gained more lands and helped to build the Camelot he knew today.

Two months after the initial departure, the battle had showed no signs of completion and as whispers of Bayard’s men gaining land spread through the city and Camelot suffering great losses, Arthur started to worry. He hadn’t been privy to the conversations regarding the battles but he’d been able to work out that things had taken a turn for the very worst because in the early hours of the morning, long before breakfast two Sundays ago, Uther had gathered men from the ones who had been left behind to defend Camelot and ridden out to provide support.

Arthur had been forced to watch as his Father rode off with a significantly smaller amount of men, Kay in amongst them, leaving a worried Prince and skeletal staff behind to defend their keep. The days had rolled on and with no word from the front, Arthur had found himself getting less sleep every night, spending more time perched on the castle steps waiting for the first glimmer of triumphant red in the distance. The overwhelming sense of dread had been palpable within the citadel and it had still to dissipate.

Everyone from the highest Lord, to the Court Physician and a handful of stable hands had gone with Uther in the second wave and, tragically not many of them had returned.

Kay brought his chin down on the top of Arthur’s golden locks as he did his best to try and hug his young charge’s hurt away. “You can talk to me, you know.” He said softly. “If you ever need someone to just listen, if you need someone to just sit and be sad with you, you can come to me.”

Arthur knew he meant it.

If Kay had his way, he’d have moved heaven and earth so that Arthur would be happy and the young Prince was secretly pleased by the knowledge. Sir Kay was one of the most trustworthy men Arthur had ever known. He was the finest knight Camelot had ever produced, perhaps save the teen’s father, and he was the kind of person Arthur wished to be most like when he grew up. The redhead had started his life in service to the crown as a squire– as most of the noblemen who aspired to be knights did- and by the time he was sixteen-years-old he had been knighted by Uther himself and welcomed into the Camelot brotherhood. He was the youngest man to ever receive a knighthood. More than that however, Kay was a friend. The best Arthur had ever had. The older boy had been a part of the Prince’s life for as long as he could remember.

Six years his senior, Kay had appointed himself as Arthur’s unofficial protector and big brother from the moment he’d been allowed to hold the tiny baby in his arms after his birth. The tall, broad-shouldered, lanky-legged ginger was weaved throughout every memory Arthur had. He was always there to guide, play, protect and reassure. It was unheard of that one of the knights would be allowed to form such a close bond with their future monarch but as the only son of Sir Ector, Kay managed to get away with more than most.

Sir Ector was one of Uther’s most trusted friends, one of his most noble knights a member of the King’s inner-circle and while their fathers had been busy with matters of court and kingdom, Arthur and Kay had been felt to their own devices under the ever-watchful eye of Kay’s mother. Arthur had spent a lot of time with Lady Marie, when she’d been alive. She too had been a prominent member of the court, appointed to be one of the late Queen’s ladies-in-waiting after the two of them had formed the fiercest of friendships in Ygraine’s early days in Camelot. Sir Ector and Lady Marie had loved Arthur as if he truly was Kay’s younger brother, they had both been appointed as Godparents to the young Prince and Lady Marie had overseen the running of the royal household- along with Arthur’s governess, Violet- when it became clear that Uther had no intentions to remarry.

Arthur was well aware that his upbringing was unlike anyone else’s but he was grateful for the little family he had. Being Prince was an awfully lonely affair most of the time. His father did not want him playing with the common-children, he wasn’t allowed to speak to them never mind try and make friends, and he didn’t like the children of the nobility who frequented the castle.

Well, that wasn’t strictly true.

He did like one child.

Morgana Le Fay.

The daughter of Lord Gorlois and Lady Vivienne, the tiny girl had been a frequent figure in Arthur’s life the past few years. Although the family didn’t live in the city of Camelot full-time, they were almost always at court and always there when Uther summoned them. She wasn’t like the other children that came to court. Like him, she cared very little for the others they were often forced to spend time with and she didn’t get on with any of the other little girls.

At first, Arthur hadn’t cared for the way she’d followed him around like a little shadow or the way she’d pestered him to let her play, the older boys had teased him relentlessly and he’d been cold towards Morgana in the hopes that she would leave him alone and she did. Arthur had been the one to realise that he did in fact miss her and the two of them had struck a tentative friendship built on climbing trees, riding horses, play fighting and ganging up on the stuffy noble children. A part of him had always been a little worried that eventually Morgana would tire of their adventures and she would be welcomed into the little gang of girls who enjoyed tea parties and dolls and gossip, but it hadn’t happened yet. Instead they’d become as thick as thieves, content to spend their days playing away the hours together and causing enough chaos to rival a small gang.

His eyes fell to the tiny dark haired girl as she stood cuddled into her governess’ side in amongst the group of people from her family’s estate as they watched the funeral pyre burn.

While Camelot had been victorious and won the war against Bayard, it had come at a cost.

Arthur had been delighted when the council had announced the triumphant Camelot men were on their way home, the relief had been felt all over the kingdom. The townspeople hung bunting, dried grain and flower petals to toss and lined the streets to give their men a welcome befitting heroes. Arthur had bounced on the balls of his feet on the castle steps watching as the men rode into the citadel behind his Father. Uther’s grim face should have been warning enough that something was amiss. It wasn’t until the young Prince realised that the happy cheering had turned to weeping and screaming that Arthur realised exactly what it meant to win a war. A fraction of the men that had originally set off to defend their home had returned into the citadel behind Uther in a battered, broken stream. Arthur had been shocked into a stupor when he realised that behind the men who were well enough to ride and walk that there were carts being pulled filled with the bodies of the men who had died on the journey home. The Court Physician a stoic pillar as he rode beside the front cart, his face grim as he turned his gaze to the cobbles.

The days that had followed had been harrowing, death hadn’t stopped when the battle had, instead he’d followed the men home and continued to reap as men succumbed to their injuries after finally making it back to Camelot. Arthur had watched, horrified as people searched for missing family members, claimed the bodies of their loved ones and others came to terms with the fact that there was no body to bring home.

Sons, husbands, fathers, uncles, nephews, cousins, friends all lost to the ravages of war- never to be seen again.

Arthur watched as Morgana shook her head against her governess’ side. Charlotte seemed to deflate at whatever Morgana had said to her, but she brought a hand down to cradle the young girl’s head all the same. The sad and sorry sight made Arthur’s heart constrict in his chest.

Morgana’s father hadn’t come home.

Arthur had waited anxiously with Morgana as the two of them searched for any sign of the men they knew. He’d even let her hold his hand the whole time. Uther had barely glanced in their direction as he strode by them on his way into the castle, but the two youngsters had eyes for only Sir Ector. The dear knight had turned his mount and stood in his stirrups to announce the plans; Gaius would tend to the wounded and sick as he had done on the battlefield and the knights who were able would tend to the bodies and lay them in the courtyard for the families to claim.

As with all things, formal proceedings would be announced.

Ector’s rich voice had carried out over the sobbing and wailing, it had been strong in a time of great need and Arthur was still amazed by the way the man had carried himself. His own son had been so badly wounded, shipped off to Gaius before the man could help him down from Phillip’s back himself. Still he’d carried on. He’d dismounted his horse and sought out his young Prince and Morgana. He’d been quick to embrace them, squatting and holding his arms out as they’d barrelled down the steps and into his chest. He’d done all the things Arthur had hoped his father would and, he’d been the one to tell them of Gorlois.

Sir Gorlois Le Fay, Lord of Powys, Second Knight of Camelot and member of the King’s inner-circle, was dead. He’d been badly wounded in an ambush before Uther and the reinforcements had arrived and Gaius had done everything he could, the knight had lived long enough to see the battle won but died shortly after.

He’d been cast on a pyre with the other fallen men in the field where Camelot’s camp had been erected.

Without a body to bury, Morgana and members of the Le Fay household had instead gathered in front of the funeral pyre that had been lit that morning in honour of all the men who had not returned home. Uther and Sir Geoffrey of Mammoth had led the mass funeral and Arthur still wasn’t sure how he felt about it. It all seemed so terribly impersonal. Even an hour after the last of the people had left the courtyard, Morgana and her household had yet to move.

“Kay,” Arthur mumbled amongst the fabric of the knight’s cloak. The knight made a soft humming noise. “what will happen now?” He asked.

The knight let out an uneasy breath, holding Arthur that little bit tighter. Sir Gorlois’ death had hit him hard; Arthur knew that the two of them had been close. The man had been Kay’s Godfather and he’d been the knight to take him on as his squire. “Well,” Kay said. “there will be more funerals. People will mourn and then, eventually they’ll start to rebuild.”

Arthur wondered how on earth any of them would manage to rebuild after this. So many of Camelot’s people had been lost. There would be gaps in the knights’ shifts, market stalls that had no one to manage them, everyone from every walk of life had been affected by this.

“Will we go to them?” Arthur asked. While he’d not been to many funerals and had been too young to really remember any of Kay’s mother’s funeral so was unsure of the etiquette, he felt that attending was perhaps something he should do. The fallen were his people and it was his duty to take care of the ones left behind.

“I don’t suppose we will,” Kay answered after a beat or two of silence. “sometimes, the families prefer to have their own ceremonies after the formal one.”

“Oh.” Arthur breathed. He supposed that was fair. But as he watched Morgana and her household stare into the fire he couldn’t help but feel there was something more to be done. This couldn’t be it. Gorlois was the Second Knight of Camelot, his father and Sir Ector’s dearest friend, a Lord, a good and noble man. He deserved more than a mass funeral. “What will happen to Morgana?” He asked quietly, in fear she would somehow hear him.

The redhead flinched which did nothing to sooth Arthur’s growing worry at the sickening realisation that his friend was now an orphan at only ten-years-old. While no one was sure what had happened to Morgana’s mother, Lady Vivienne had disappeared years ago without a trace, leaving Morgana in the care of her father and now, he was gone too.

“I don’t know,” Kay answered honestly.

Morgana had no family left, apart from a great aunt, a woman Gorlois spoke of often- a terrifying ancient woman who was far too stubborn to die. He’d never had anything nice to say about her and he made it clear that the woman held no love for her nephew’s daughter. Arthur couldn’t really imagine the woman wanting to take care of his friend, she hadn’t even come to the city for the funeral, despite Uther’s invitation.

“I hope she doesn’t have to leave.” Arthur commented. “I like it when she’s here.”

Kay nodded his head. “I like it too.” He said with a tiny smile. He enjoyed seeing his young charge and his playmate causing mischief and playing as if neither of them had a single care in the world. He and the other knights often found excuses to give to the King in order spend time in their company instead of carrying out their duties. Kay had lost count of how many times he’d taken the brunt of Agatha’s scolding for helping the youngsters pinch freshly iced buns from the kitchens when she wasn’t looking, but he would have done it again and again to see them happy.

The group before the pyre moved suddenly, startling Arthur and he straightened in Kay’s hold to sit upright. The two of them watched as the men donned their caps once again and after a moment or two, the household turned away from the flames and made their way up the stairs. Arthur did his best to look at them and smile politely but he only had eyes for Morgana as she was led up the stairs behind them all, her hand clutched tightly in Charlotte’s.

The members of Morgana’s household had been invited to stay in the castle for the duration of the funeral by Uther himself, which Arthur thought spoke volumes for how much his father had loved his friend. Uther wasn’t always kind to those of a station lower than his own.

The Prince was aware of the quiet words shared between Kay and the members of the household, and he made a note to seek them out later to apologise for his rudeness but he currently had other things on his mind than listening to them acknowledge his presence.

“Come along poppet,” Charlotte coaxed as she walked Morgana up the stairs. “we should head in for some tea, warm up a little.”

“No,” Morgana said as she tried to tug her hand free from her governess’. “I don’t want to.”

Arthur caught sight of the tear tracks on Morgana’s face and noticed how her normally pale complexion was covered with red splotches from her crying. His stomach sank as he watched her keep turning her head to look back down at the pyre.

“We can’t stay out here all day,” Charlotte said softly causing Morgana to frown.

“I know,” Morgana responded with as much irritation as her little ten-year-old-self could muster. “I won’t. I’m just-” she trailed off, turning to look at the pyre again. “I’m not ready.” She stomped her foot as if to further her point. “I want to stay here, myself.”

“Oh poppet,” Charlotte said sadly as she bent to Morgana’s height. “I can’t leave you out here alone.”

Arthur gnawed on his bottom lip for a few seconds as he watched Charlotte try to coax Morgana to come inside with her. He cast a glance at Kay who too was watching the governess fail despite her best efforts. Mind made up; Arthur nodded his head to himself before speaking. “You wouldn’t be alone,” His voice came out softer than he first intended but it was enough to make Morgana’s head snap in his direction, confusion painted across her sullen face. “I’m not ready to go in yet.” He said, this time a little louder. “You can sit with us, if you’d like?”

Charlotte sent a sad smile in Arthur’s direction before looking to Kay. The knight nodded his head in confirmation. “I’ll watch over them,” He said as Charlotte stood to her full height again. “I promised Violet I’d have Arthur back inside, in time for the meal.”

“If you’re sure, Sir Kay?” Charlotte said as she gave Morgana’s hand a squeeze before letting go of the young girl.

“Of course,” Kay said as Morgana stepped towards him and Arthur. “go and get out of this drizzle.”

Arthur held his side of Kay’s cloak up and Morgana settled herself in under his arm with a sniffle. Charlotte stayed long enough to make sure her charge was settled before she cast a final glance at the pyre before heading inside.

Happy that Morgana’s dress was protected from the rain, Arthur leaned back into the comfort of Kay, smiling softly when Morgana leaned back against him in turn. Had the occasion not been so sad, Arthur would have thought it like the time the three of them had gone fishing and swimming in the nearby river. They’d sat bundled between towels to dry off, stuffing their faces with picnic before Kay had brought them back to the citadel. Morgana had been delighted to tell everyone that she’d caught a trout that was much bigger than his.

The younger girl let out another small sniffle, her eyes locked firmly on the still burning wood. “Thank you,” Morgana mumbled, her small cold hand wrapped around Arthur’s underneath the safety of Kay’s cloak.

“You’re welcome.” Arthur replied softly, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

x-x-x-x

Morgana was annoyed.

She lay sprawled across her bed, looking out the window. The torrents of rain that had been battering against the glass for the past few days had appeared to have turned to a light sleet as the days got bitterly cold. In the few days that had passed since the funeral service for the fallen knights of Camelot, the rain had come down in sheets and had showed very little sign of stopping and Morgana had found herself confined to the castle. At first, she had been glad for it because it seemed as though the sky was as sad as she felt and she appreciated the solidarity shown. However, as the days rolled on and she ran out of things to entertain herself with indoors, her patience was beginning to wear thin.

Today, she had spent the early hours of the morning wandering up and down the quiet hallways unable to sleep. She had taken to watching the servants go about their duties to pass the time. No one really seemed to mind if she followed them from a distance to watch, so she had. She’d watched the torches and candles be extinguished by the butlers as the grey light of day filtered in through the windows. She’d trailed along behind the porters as they swept floors and polished the windows and mirrors they passed on their way and she had trailed after the young chambermaids who darted in and out of rooms to change sheets, tidy fireplaces and clear away dirty dishes from the night before.

It had been strange to see. The castle seemed to wake and carry on just as it did every day, even after such loss and sadness. Of course, there was a heaviness to the air that Morgana didn’t appreciate and she noticed how people looked at her with sorrow and sympathy. Some even turned to one another to whisper things she could never quite make out. It made her skin crawl and she didn’t care for it one bit. By the time the bells had sounded, alerting the kingdom it was time to wake and prepare for breakfast Morgana had sought out Prince Arthur.

Her playmate had never much liked mornings so Morgana knew better than to go to him when she couldn’t sleep. She knew it was better to try and visit him closer to breakfast so he wouldn’t be in such a terrible mood. Any time she’d tried to get him out of his bed in the small hours of the morning he’d been bear-like and grumbled at her until he was allowed to go back to sleep or he’d stalked off in a huff not wanting to be in her company. As far as boys went, Arthur wasn’t the most terrible and the more time she spent with the young prince, Morgana realised that she actually enjoyed his company. Arthur wasn’t like the other boys that frequented court and he was a damn sight more interesting than the girls Morgana was often forced to try and socialise with. As the sleet and rain had been lighter for the first time in days, Morgana had held fast to the hope that the two of them might be permitted to escape the stone walls of Camelot’s castle for a few hours. Following the funeral and the time they had spent out in the drizzle, both Violet and Charlotte had been firm with their young charges, not letting them out in the rain for fear that they would come down with a cold or something worse.

Alas, when Morgana had reached Arthur’s chambers she’d discovered it had been a waste of time. She’d burst in the door and thrown herself on the mattress to bounce the older boy awake like he so hated only to be dismayed to find his bed already empty. With Arthur awake much earlier than he normally would have been, Morgana had headed back towards her rooms, stopping to press her face against every window she passed to make sure the Prince hadn’t been dragged outside to train with the knights. It proved to be another wasted task as she hadn’t found him at all, she could only make out the shapes of the knights, taller and stronger than Arthur. So she had done the only other reasonable thing and stomped all the way back to her own rooms. She’d crept back inside only to be met with the stern reprimanding glare of her governess and Charlotte had dressed her and brushed her hair for the day before fetching breakfast. And after their familiar routine of fighting to try and get Morgana to eat something, for food was still something she couldn’t face in the wake of her father’s death, the young girl had been left to sulk in her room.

If Arthur had gone off on an adventure without her, she was going to be furious with him.

He’d promised before bed, that the two of them would do something together today, provided that Morgana felt up to it. In the days that followed the news of her father’s death, Arthur had been horrendously patient with her. He understood that she didn’t feel like playing nor did she want to do anything else but sit. He hadn’t teased her for crying or gotten cross with her when she shouted mean things at him or thrown his toy soldiers, instead he’d just sat in close proximity without saying a word.

Morgana understood that Arthur knew what loss felt like. He mourned his mother; despite the fact he’d never known her. He mourned the loss of her own mother, of Lady Marie, of all the people who’d never come home to Camelot despite not actually knowing them and now, he mourned Gorlois. It wasn’t in the same way as her, but Morgana was glad that he understood all the same. Even at her young age, Morgana recognised that Arthur was a sensitive soul. He had a wicked temper on him and could hold a grudge like no other but it was all done in defence of his own heart. When the two of them had fought over the years, Gorlois had been there to remind her that Arthur was someone who felt things deeply and his anger was just a way to protect himself be it from the hurt he was feeling or the wrath of his stern father.

Thinking about her father, Morgana brought her knees up curling in on herself as the heavy weight that had been present across her shoulders for the past few days moved again. She found herself thinking about him as she looked out the window to the trees that made up the forest of Ascetir and behind their tops the great mountain ridge that separated Camelot from the kingdom of Escetir. Her father had hoisted her to his hip and held her close as he pointed out the landmarks she could see from her very own window. Morgana’s heart twisted uncomfortably at the memory. Gorlois had decided on their last journey to Camelot together that as a young lady of ten, she was old enough to be treated to her own rooms when they stayed in Uther’s home. After all, she had her own room at home so there was no need for her to share her Father’s in Camelot. She’d felt so grown up and special, positively beamed any time she heard her father comment how grown up she was becoming. Morgana closed her eyes over and it was as if she could feel the way his hand came down to rest on the top of her head as she hugged his waist tightly.

Her heart gave another uncomfortable clench in her chest.

She sniffled a little as she felt the first hot burst of tears line her eyes. She had done a lot of crying over the past few days and she was a little surprised to find that she had some left in her. Would she just keep crying? Would the tears ever dry up? Gaius had once told her that the human body was composed by a vast percentage of water so perhaps the tears would keep coming until she had no water left in her and then she too would disappear from the world, just like her father had.

It was a strange concept to try and wrap her head around. Her father was gone. One moment he had been there, alive and thriving in the world and the next moment he was gone. She would never see him again. He was gone just like her mother and now she was all alone.

The sob that escaped her lips was startling and Morgana flinched as she cried but she couldn’t stop herself. Instead, she curled into a tiny little ball on top of the bedclothes, pushed her face into her pillow and wept for her broken family. Where there had once been three members of the great house of Le Fay, there was only her. Vivienne and Gorlois were gone and Morgana was left to navigate the world without them.

Had her father been there, had he seen her so bereft and upset, he would have sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her into his arms. Morgana screwed her eyes up tightly as the tears fell hot and fast down her face, if she screwed them tightly enough she could just picture him doing so. She could almost feel the mattress sink under his weight.

_‘There, there my little dove,’_ His voice sounded in her head. _‘you’re alright. Papa is here.’_

He’d always been there, always. Gorlois had been pleased to have his daughter by his side. He’d made it clear to everyone and Morgana that should she ever need him, regardless of what or where he was, she was always able to seek him out. Some teased him, Uther among them, told him he was far too protective and soft towards her, but Gorlois hadn’t cared. He would never be swayed to change his ways. After all, it had just been the two of them and Morgana knew that her father had never forgiven himself for what had happened to her mother, how she’d just slipped away in the dead of night never to be seen again.

Morgana forced her eyes open as she continued to cry.

Her father wasn’t there. He wasn’t there with her and he never would be again and that wasn’t how it should have been.

For the first time, Morgana felt the burst of anger hot in her stomach and she wasn’t sure what to do with it. The more she cried, the angrier she felt and it was a vicious cycle.

She lay crying on the bed for quite some time. Long enough for the sleet to stop completely, long enough for the sun to poke its head out from behind the drifting clouds. Long enough for her eyes to sting and throat to burn.

And then, there was a knock at her door.

Morgana lay for a few moments more, the knock sounded again and she pushed herself into a sitting position on the bed. With a frown she scrambled across the bed to clamber off it. Dropping to her feet she made her way across the floor and threw the door open with more fury than she intended.

“ _What_?” She demanded.

Her teary gaze took in the sight of a sheepish Arthur standing on the other side. He started at the violent movement of the door and her sudden appearance. Morgana sniffled and wiped at her face as she watched Arthur give her a once over, his sapphire eyes burning with something that reminded her of concern.

“’Gana,” He said softly as if he was speaking so not to startle her. “what’s wrong?”

Morgana frowned deeply at the ridiculousness of the question and Arthur seemed to realise the same as he winced after the question left his lips. “Where were you?” Morgana asked as she wiped at her face angrily. “I went to your room and you weren’t there.”

Arthur looked incredibly guilty; it was a look she’d come to recognise that he gave his father when the two of them had been ratted out for being naughty. “’m sorry,” He replied. “my Father wished to see me. Violet had to come wake me early.”

“Oh,” Morgana replied. She hadn’t thought to go and seek out Arthur in the King’s chambers. It hadn’t even crossed her mind. In fact, she was quite sure that Uther would not have appreciated being interrupted. Morgana gave Arthur a once over and he looked relatively normal so perhaps it hadn’t been a traumatic visit. “is everything alright?” She dreaded to think that something else horrible had happened. She hopped that none of the other injured men who had come home had died during the night.

Arthur nodded his head. “I suppose,” He answered as Morgana allowed him to step inside. She watched him curiously as he walked over to her bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. “Father is going to throw a feast, to celebrate Camelot’s victory and to mourn the kingdom’s loss.”

Morgana frowned, that didn’t seem like a very appropriate thing to do. Not so soon. She had been a guest at many of King Uther’s feasts and they were always very extravagant parties, filled with lots of happy and drunk people. “When?” She asked, she didn’t feel up to attending if she was being honest. She walked over to take a seat beside him.

“In a few days,” Arthur replied.

“How strange.” Morgana commented. She turned her gaze to the boy at her side and looked him up and down, frowning when she realised he was wearing a warm winter coat and gloves covered his hands. “Why are you dressed like that?” She asked. “Where are you going? Can I come?”

Arthur rolled his eyes at her. “So many questions.” He taunted causing her to pout. Arthur laughed lightly. “I suppose you can come, if you’d like. I’m going to see the new hounds, Violet said that Marden was talking about them, this morning when they had breakfast. He said we could go and see them whenever we liked.”

Morgana brightened at the prospect of seeing the new recruits. The last time she’d been in Camelot, two of Uther’s prized bitches had birthed litters and she’d been allowed to help care for the tiny puppies. She’d secretly hoped that she would have been allowed to take one of the puppies home with her, but hadn’t been so lucky. “Really?”

Arthur nodded his head. “Yes, and then Leon is going to come see us once the knights have finished their drills.”

“Alright,” Morgana said with a small smile as she got to her feet and darted across the room to pull her plum coloured winter cloak on over her navy dress. “Shouldn’t you be out with the knights?” she asked confused as she made her way back over to him.

Arthur shook his head once more. “Sir Ector has given everyone relaxed duties for now. Only William and Samuel are doing their squire duties.”

Morgana nodded her head. She supposed that made sense. Camelot’s forces had been depleted and out of the men who had come home, lots of them had been injured and weren’t in any position to be carrying out any of their normal duties, never mind the full extent of them. Those like Leon who had been left behind to defend Camelot would be picking up the slack for a good while yet.

“Ready,” She said with a small smile, pulling on her navy coloured gloves.

Arthur nodded his head and got to his feet, heading towards the door again.

“How is Sir Ector?” Morgana asked as she followed along behind the older boy. “I haven’t seen much of him.” She held no ill will towards him for it either, she imagined that Camelot’s First Knight was rushed off his feet trying to help his kingdom through this difficult time. And while she understood, she did find herself missing his company.

Arthur nibbled on his bottom lip, a nasty habit that cropped up when he was nervous. “Sad, worried about Kay. Worried about Father, worried about all of us and everything.” He replied.

“And Kay?” Morgana was quite sure that the sight of him so hurt wouldn’t leave her mind for a very long time, if ever.

“I haven’t seen him today,” Arthur answered. “Leon said he’d gone to Gaius during the night, something about his ribs.”

Morgana reached out and took a hold of Arthur’s hand giving it a squeeze. She knew how troubled he’d been by his friend’s injuries even if he wasn’t willing or _allowed_ to discuss it. “Maybe we could go and see him? We could ask Leon if he’s still with Gaius and go see him, Gaius won’t mind us visiting.”

Arthur nodded his head, squeezing Morgana’s hand in turn as the two of them headed off down the stairs and down into the main entrance hall to the castle. As they reached the ground floor, Morgana found herself fighting against a groan as she caught sight of the gaggle of noble ladies who were heading towards the great hall to meet with others and spend their afternoons gossiping. Morgana happened to catch the eye of Lady Selby, who looked at her with as much disgust as Morgana was showing her. Narrowing her eyes, Morgana caught sight of her horrible son Ransford at her side and scowled at him. The snotty nosed older boy scowled right back.

“Prince Arthur,” the ladies tittered in greeting and it took everything within Morgana not to roll her eyes. No one greeted her, not that she minded but she was bothered by the way that a few of them turned to one another and whispered behind their hands as they looked at her.

“Hello,” Arthur replied politely as he pulled on Morgana’s hand urging her to hurry along with him. “no time to stop, I’m afraid!”

Morgana simply smirked at their crestfallen expressions and felt bold enough to stick her tongue out at Ransford as he glared at her once more.

“’Gana, _hurry_.” Arthur begged.

Morgana let out a little laugh as the two of the rushed through the doors and down the stone steps to the courtyard. She couldn’t blame Arthur for wanting to escape from the terrifying women. It was much worse for him, for being the heir to Camelot’s throne meant that all of the women were hoping that fate might smile upon their daughters or nieces and Arthur would take one of them as a wife in the future. Thankfully, Arthur was still of an age where he chose to run from the girls that tried to flock for his attention.

It was all terribly amusing for Morgana.

The two youngsters made it safely across the courtyard and towards the kennels without any interruptions. Just as Arthur had said, Marden was delighted to see the two of them and was happy to let them get down on their hands and knees in amongst the over excited litter.

The giggles that escaped Morgana as the dogs clambered over each other to get to her and get her attention, helped her feel that little bit lighter and as one puppy stood up on his hind legs to lick at her tear-stained face, her sadness was pushed to the side for a little while. She was more than happy for Marden to teach them the hand signals and whistles to get the dogs to sit and stay and speak. Of course, it turned into a competition between her and Arthur to see who’s puppies were the smartest.

Arthur let out a shrill whistle between his teeth and watched with a beaming smile as his little pack of four came bounding over to him. Lifting his hand he brought them all to a stop at his feet. “Mine are clearly the best.” Arthur stated to Morgana.

The darkhaired girl rolled her eyes at him before taking a seat on the grass at the edge of the training grounds where they had flocked too. “Mine did exactly the same thing!” She pointed out.

“Yes but I’m the Prince so that makes me naturally better than you.” Arthur shrugged and took a seat, crossing his legs and allowing the four hounds he had claimed for himself to clamber over him.

Morgana watched him with a smile, Arthur loved animals. “Would you ever have a dog?” Morgana asked. “not a hunting one, but a companion?”

Arthur shrugged his shoulders. “Father says I’m not allowed, remember?”

Morgana rolled her eyes, of course she remembered. A visiting Lord had brought Arthur the gift of a fine puppy to call his own after the young Prince had spent a summer in bed due to sickness but Uther had forbidden it. Princes weren’t allowed such things, which in her opinion was silly. The King had entertained the notion for as long as the Lord had been at court, allowing Arthur just enough time to fall in love with it, before snatching it away. “Yes, I know that but he won’t be the boss of you forever. When you’re King, you could have as many dogs as you want.”

Arthur nodded his head; he hadn’t considered that before. “Well the hunting dogs will be mine eventually, as they are Father’s now.”

“Yes, Arthur but you could have a dog of your own, a pet!”

Morgana watched as a smile broke out over Arthur’s face. “I’d have a boy dog,” He said quietly, like it was a secret. “and I’d teach him all of the best tricks. And he’ll be fast, to keep up with Hengroen.”

Morgana nodded her head, pleased with his answer.

“When I’m King, you can have a dog too.” He said. “Or perhaps a cat, I know how you like them.”

Morgana smiled. It was nice to have a friend like Arthur.

x-x-x-x

“If that boy wants to live to see Kinghood, he won’t go pinching any more of my tarts!” Arthur winced as Agatha’s annoyed yell bounced off the kitchen walls. “He’s lucky I’m too busy to rat him out to His Majesty.” Arthur shrugged his shoulders up higher to his ears as the cook continued to berate him.

“I’m sorry, Agatha,” Violet soothed as she stood at Arthur’s side, her hand curled over his shoulder. The young boy was a little concerned that if her grip was to get any tighter her nails would puncture through the fabric of not only his velvet jacket but the linen shirt he wore beneath it. “I know this is the last thing you needed right now.”

Agatha looked up from the pot she was poised over, lifting her wooden spoon from it to brandish it towards the governess. “What on earth are you apologising for Vi? It’s hardly your fault!”

Violet shot another glare at Arthur causing him to flush a brighter shade of red. “Arthur is sorry too, aren’t you, _Your Highness_?”

Arthur stumbled forward as Violet’s grip propelled him forward before she relinquished her hold. The young Prince stumbled over his own feet and took the opportunity to right himself before he looked into the furious face of the castle’s head-cook. In hindsight, sneaking into the castle kitchens to try his hand at light thievery on such a busy night when all the staff were adding the final touches to the copious amounts of food they had prepared for the feast hadn’t been such a bright idea.

It had been an especially bad idea when he’d secured the tarts and in his haste to exit the kitchen he’d stumbled into one of the scullery maids and sent her crashing to the floor in a heap of broken crockery. He’d been quick to pass the bounty off but found himself unable to scramble out of the kitchen like he normally would, meaning that as he helped pick up the poor girl from the floor he’d been caught.

Agatha, the cook, was a short stout woman who knew exactly how to swipe a spoon or rolling pin to make sure it would leave a bruise. He didn’t dare get any closer to her or the pot that hung over the open flame, worried that this might indeed be the final straw and she would push him in to serve him as part of the first course.

He cast a glance over his shoulder at Violet and realised that based on the expression she was wearing; his governess might do very little to defend him if the cook tried to get him into a pot.

“I am,” Arthur said, his voice cracking uncomfortably. He cleared his throat for a moment before speaking again. “I’m sorry to have caused you bother, Agatha. I shouldn’t have stolen the tarts.”

“No you should not, Sire.” Agatha said sternly.

Arthur nodded his head. “I only wanted to cheer up Morgana,” he informed the kitchen staff and Violet. He glanced down at his feet, oblivious to the way that every woman in the room deflated a little at his point. His friend had been terribly upset, she’d wept all day long and it had taken Arthur hours to get the reason out of her. The rooms Sir Gorlois had used were being packed up by members of Morgana’s household and they had thought it best not to mention it to her. She’d been heartbroken at the sight of all her Father’s things being bundled away probably never to be looked at again. “but I shouldn’t have stolen them and I shouldn’t have gotten in the way when you’re all so busy.” He didn’t bother mentioning that another part of the reason for stealing was that they were both so hungry after being told not to spoil their appetites before the feast.

Lunch had been hours ago.

Agatha let out a sigh. Arthur screwed his eyes shut only imagining how much trouble he would be in once his father heard of this. The King would be furious with him. Mischief and fun were frowned upon on a good day, but on days like this when the castle had been a hive of activity to prepare for a feast since dawn, anything but proper behaviour was criminal.

“Was it the plum ones?” She asked eventually, causing Arthur’s head to snap up to look at her. The Prince nodded his head, too startled to speak. The cook turned and handed her spoon off to the young scullery maid closest to her before putting hands on her hips. “Alright,” She said. “You are forgiven. God knows that poor lass, needs something to cheer her _but_ if I ever catch you taking anything but plum tarts and if you _ever_ pull a stunt like this when I am rushed off my feet again, I will not be held responsible for my actions, Sire.”

Arthur gulped but nodded his head. Suddenly the prospect of his father and Agatha teaming up to punish him seemed even scarier than Uther being left to his own devices.

“Now, if you’ll beg my pardon Prince Arthur, get out of my kitchen because I have work to do.” Agatha said.

“I really am sorry,” Arthur said again before letting out a yelp as Violet grabbed his ear from behind. The young boy had no choice but to follow her as she tugged him along, marching him out of the kitchen and hopefully away from any more trouble.

The two of them stepped out of the door and Violet relinquished his ear long enough to close the kitchen door over. “For pity’s sake, Arthur!” Violet hissed as she whirled round to look at him, hands on her hips. “How many times are we to have this discussion?”

Arthur winced again. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s…it’s just so easy to take them.” He said causing Violet to frown even harder. “It’s just a bit of harmless fun.”

“Stealing isn’t a bit of harmless fun,” The older woman said sternly. “If you were anyone else and you had done that outside of the castle, you would have landed yourself in the stocks or worse, had your hand cut off for such a crime!” Arthur winced again. “And _you,”_ Violet hissed as she darted forward like a woman possessed and pulled the corner of the tapestry that hung on the wall beside the door away to reveal a guilty looking Morgana with her hands holding onto the tray of plum tarts. “are just as bad, young lady!” She chastised.

Arthur watched as Morgana winced too, glad that his playmate was in just as much trouble as he was. Honestly, stealing the plum tarts from the kitchen was just a bit of fun. He’d been doing it for as long as he could remember and while Agatha moaned and chased him out of her kitchen brandishing a spoon or towel as her weapon, she never truly fell out with him. Besides, he always made up for it, picking a posy and leaving them for her to find in her kitchen the next morning.

“Violet,” Arthur moaned. “we’re sorry. We just wanted to have a little fun, feasts are never fun an-”

“Well this one certainly won’t be.” Violet spat hotly. “Your Kingdom is in mourning Arthur and the last thing anyone needs, is their Prince sent to his room for acting so childish. You are twelve-years-old, you are not a child anymore. Come your next birthday you will be a young man and you’ll have responsibilities and…”

Arthur was sure his face must have been crimson with how hot it felt. He looked up at his governess with wide eyes, dismayed to see the shine of unshed tears in her own. Violet was the closest thing he’d ever had to a mother of his own and while looking after him had been her job and she’d been paid well to do it; Arthur knew that the woman genuinely cared for him. She was right, he would be a young man soon and with his next birthday, Violet would no longer be his governess, he would have a manservant instead and she would no longer be responsible for his daily care and the last thing he ever wanted was for her to be upset with him or disappointed.

Violet deflated as she looked at how ashamed her Prince was and she closed her mouth over before she took out all of her frustrations on the youngster. Squatting so she was eye-level with him, Violet reached her hand out to cup Arthur’s warm cheek in her palm. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.” She took a breath to steady herself.

Arthur shook his head. “We shouldn’t have done it.” He said.

Violet stroked Arthur’s ruddy cheek softly. “No, you shouldn’t have but, you are a good person so I know you meant no harm by it. Things are going to change soon, darling,” Violet said causing Arthur to look up at her a confused expression marring his features. “people will expect more of you and not take lightly to what others might see as harmless fun.”

Arthur looked down at his toes, knowing full well that she was referring to his father. He nodded his head sadly before he found himself pulled into a tight hug. Arthur found himself melting against Violet, wishing that he could stay like that for the whole night instead of attending what was set to be Camelot’s most depressing affair.

“What have you ruffians been up to?” A rich, voice called out causing Arthur to start. He pulled out of Violet’s grip to look over her shoulder at Sir Ector as he came to a stop a little away from him. The knight sent him a look before casting his gaze to Morgana. Mirth appeared in his eyes as he shook his head ruefully at the young Prince. “Are they giving you bother Violet?” Camelot’s First Knight asked, trying to keep the smile from his face.

Violet let out a small laugh as she turned to face the man. “When are they not, Sir Ector?” She asked rhetorically.

The tall ginger nodded his head in sympathy and understanding, he too knew how troublesome Arthur and Morgana could be. He also knew that most of the time his son was partly to blame for whatever brother the two youngsters found themselves in. “Well, perhaps I can give you some assistance. The King is on his way from his chambers and I believe it would do us well if we were all in the banquet hall before he arrives.”

Arthur looked at the knight with wide eyes and nodded his head, Uther settled for nothing less than perfect punctuality. Violet spirited them along, following Sir Ector’s lead to the great hall.

“Thank you.” Violet said, causing Arthur to glance over his shoulder to see Violet freeing Morgana from their precious bounty. He watched dismayed as his governess passed the tray into the empty hands of a servant who had just exited the hall. Judging by the pout on Morgana’s face, she was just as sad to have lost their tarts.

“There you are!” Charlotte’s sharp call caused Arthur’s attention to fall on her. Morgana’s governess shot her charge a very unimpressed look before turning her sights on Arthur. He looked at her and felt his cheeks flushing in embarrassment again.

A page at her side straightened at the arrival of the young prince and called for attention. “His Royal Highness, Prince Arthur!” He called out into the bustling room.

Arthur dipped his gaze as he stepped around to Charlotte to lead the group into the room as was expected of him. He hated this part, the loud chatter and merriment that had previously filled the room had faded to a din while people clapped their hands and bowed and curtsied to him as he made his way toward the top table. Looking along the lines of guests gathered, Arthur shot a warm smile in the direction of Sir Kay, Sir Leon and Gaius, who were seated together. Oh how he longed for the day he would be allowed to sit amongst the other nights and members of the court, away from his Father.

Reaching his seat on the right of Uther’s chair at the centre of the table, Arthur turned to watch as Sir Ector, Violet, Charlotte and Morgana all bowed and curtsied to him as well. He nodded his head dismissing them to their own seats as usual before a servant moved to pull out his chair for him.

Morgana looked at the table sadly and Arthur felt his heart sink when he realised that this was the first feast she would be attending without her father. Before he could call her over to her usual spot at his side, Charlotte stepped in.

“His Majesty has requested that you sit by him, this evening.” She said quietly, before nudging her forward.

Arthur frowned as Morgana moved away from his side to the seat on the other side of his father’s chair. He glanced to the side as Sir Ector slotted himself into the seat that Morgana would normally fill at Arthur’s side. “What’s brought this on?” He asked quietly as Ector sank into his seat. He glanced over at Morgana to watch as the young girl was helped into the seat that Sir Ector normally filled.

The knight shrugged. “I’m not sure, my Prince.” He responded quietly.

Unsettled, Arthur glanced to the seat on the other side of Ector as the Lords of Uther’s council moved to fill the remaining seats of the top table. The seat normally assigned to Sir Gorlois remained painfully empty, a giant gaping hole. Sir Ector appeared to be unsettled by it too, for he took a rather large gulp of wine before replacing his goblet and turning to greet Leon’s father who was sat in the next chair.

Arthur looked down the tables that stemmed off the top table, it looked so familiar but startling different at the same time. Lords and Ladies of the court were scattered about in amongst groups of knights and other people Uther held in high regard. As always, Violet and Charlotte were seated on either side of Gaius, the only non-noble members allowed to be present as the King viewed them as valued members of the Royal household. On Charlotte’s free side, Sir Kay was seated as he always was and Sir Leon next to him. As Arthur continued to look down the table he noticed the glaring differences, a knight that should have been in the seat Arthur had always seen them in, gone.

A striking reminder that so many of Camelot’s men hadn’t made it back home.

Before Arthur could dwell on it too much, the fanfare started signifying his Father’s arrival. Like everyone else present at the feast, he got his feet in time for His Majesty, King Uther to be announced. Arthur looked down at the doors, his father was a serious presence at the other end of the room dressed in his trademark dark leathers and his striking Camelot red cape over his shoulders.

Arthur caught the deep-set unhappy lines on his face and couldn’t help but wonder why his father had bothered to throw such an event when it was clear that no one was quite ready for it. As his father drew closer, Arthur dipped into a bow like the other men in the room. No one moved from their bow or curtsey until the King had safely passed them. Arthur waited until his father was poised in front of his seat before he moved out of his bow.

Uther took a seat and raised his hand, indicating that the other guests were free to sit once again. Arthur was glad for it and he found himself letting out a relieved breath as he did so. The guests took their seats once again and a quiet buzz of polite chatter filled the air once again. It wasn’t as boisterous as a normal feast would have been but in the current circumstances it wouldn’t have been appropriate.

“Are you alright, son?” Sir Ector asked as he drew his attention away from Leon’s father again.

Arthur nodded his head. “Just feels a little strange,”

Ector hummed in agreement. “Doesn’t feel like we should be celebrating, does it?” Arthur shook his head. “Well after this somewhat uncomfortable experience, that will hopefully be the end of all the pomp and circumstance for a while.”

Arthur smiled at the wink Ector sent him. Casting a glance at his father he watched as the King engaged Morgana in a conversation. The younger girl seemed a little taken aback by it, but happy to chat none the less. It was strange to be seated so far away from one another. How were they meant to make fun of the ladies’ ugly dresses or the drunken lords if they weren’t next to each other?

“Morgana seems to be in good spirits now,” Ector commented as he took in the sight of her.

Arthur nodded his head. “Seeing her servants pack up her Father’s things, upset her. Riding this afternoon cheered her up I think.”

“Ah yes, my son moaned his face off about how he’d been abandoned.” Sir Ector said with a smirk. Arthur couldn’t help but laugh. The knight had been all set to accompany them and Leon for their ride that afternoon but Gaius had caught wind of his plans and put a firm stop to it. The Court Physician was not a man to be taken lightly and after firmly reminding the reckless knight that he’d been to visit him a few nights before because his ribs were bothering him, Kay had found himself under house arrest and banned from accompanying them.

“We missed him,” Arthur said. “but I was rather glad he didn’t come. I’d hate to think what would have happened had he fallen off Phillip or something.”

Ector nodded his head as he glanced in the direction of his boy, the teen was laughing loudly at something Sir Pellinore had said. “Kay’s never been good at coping with little to do. I’m glad he’s doing as he’s told though. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“Me either.” Arthur agreed.

As if he knew he was being talked about the knight leaned back in his seat and cast a cheeky grin in the direction of his father and friend. Sir Ector rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to the young Prince. “I know none of this has been easy for you, but I’m proud of you Arthur.” The knight said. “Proud of the way you’ve handled yourself and the others around you.”

Arthur blushed as he looked up at the older knight. “I haven’t done anything, not really.”

“Of course you have,” Sir Ector argued. “You’ve been a good and kind friend, Arthur.” Ector said. “You’re someone that can be relied on and that is a very good quality for a future King to have. Just, maybe don’t steal as many plum tarts in the future or at least, try harder not to get caught.” Ector winked.

Arthur blushed again.

Before he could say anything more, Uther got to his feet causing a hush to descend over the room. Everyone turned their attention to the King. Even the servants who had been refilling goblets and placing bread on the tables paused in their duties and stood at the sides of the room to listen.

“As I look to you all tonight,” Uther began, his voice loud in the quiet room. “I am gladdened to be here; Camelot was once again victorious and our kingdom shall sleep soundly thanks to the brave men I am proud to call Camelot’s finest warriors.” There was a burst of noise as people began clapping. Uther allowed it to go on for a few moments, joining in himself as he looked over to Sir Ector and then out to the men who were scattered throughout the room.

Arthur watched, impressed, as his father raised a hand to silence the room again and everyone stopped clapping without a moment’s hesitation.

“In light of our victory I am also reminded,” Uther continued. “that there are so many faces that I should be able to see here gathered in this room, but I cannot.” Arthur glanced out in the direction of the crowd as they grew sombre. “In our time of need, Camelot’s devoted citizens went above and beyond their call of duty to ensure that our Kingdom would remain safe and some, more than anyone would have wished, paid for it with their lives.”

Arthur cast his eyes over to Morgana and watched as she lowered her gaze.

“We have lost too many good men. Sons, husbands, fathers and too many friends,” Uther went on. “it is our duty, to ensure that their sacrifices are not forgotten and that their memory lives on within our Kingdom.” Uther paused to reach for his cup and invited the rest of the room to do the same with wave of his hand.

Arthur reached for his own goblet and stood in time with the others in the room.

“To Camelot,” He toasted. “and to the fallen.”

“To Camelot and the fallen.” Arthur chorused back with the other guests before bringing his goblet to his lips for a short sip.

“Now,” Uther spoke again. “before the feast is set before us, I would like to end on a happier note.” Arthur watched confused as his father continued to address the room. “Sir Gorlois, Second Knight of Camelot and one of my dearest friends was taken from us all far too soon. But, I made a promise to him,”

“Dear gods,” Ector muttered causing Arthur to cast a glance in his direction before looking back at the King.

Uther looked to Morgana and placed a gloved hand on her shoulder. “I promised that I would ensure the safety of his most precious daughter, should he not return. So it shall be done, for tonight I announce before you my intention to claim Lady Morgana Le Fay as my Ward.”

A series of gasps filled the room and Arthur felt his eyes widen as he took in the shocked look on his friend’s face. Uther seemed completely oblivious to her reaction though as he raised his cup and addressed her.

“ _What_?” Arthur asked loudly as he looked to his father.

**Author's Note:**

> There are time breaks indicated throughout using: 'x-x-x-x' and with these breaks comes a swap in POV, mainly between Arthur & Morgana. I promise it will make sense as you read. 
> 
> Well this grew arms and legs and took off. What was going to be a one-shot quickly became a chaptered fic. I hope it doesn't feel too jumpy, it's going to be quite fast-paced because lets face it, wee!Arthur and wee!Morgana aren't going to stay out of trouble for long, are they?
> 
> P. xo


End file.
